


ZaDr Week 2019

by Chipper_Daily



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Irken!Dib AU, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Gore, OFC - Freeform, Older Characters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fic, Xenophilia, ZaDr Week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-04-23 08:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19147066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chipper_Daily/pseuds/Chipper_Daily
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin, folks.Each chapter title will be the prompt and tags will be updated with each chapter.





	1. Blindfolds

 

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Vivisection as a fun and flirty first date

_-warning: minor gore-_

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He rested his chin in one palm, smugly admiring his handiwork for a quiet moment while the long, wickedly curved little claws of his other hand clicked impatiently against the examination table. Despite the wait, Zim felt more amused then anxious. He didn’t fight the sharp grin that stretched across his face as the unintelligible murmuring beneath him grew in intensity and volume. His pet was finally stirring.

The Dib resurfaced into consciousness like someone had flicked a switch. He slipped abruptly from feverish ramblings (silly Earth creature, he couldn’t shut up even during his primitive biologically mandated sleep) to a moment of baffled silence where he visibly strained first his hands, then arms, then legs against his binds, then his head shot up from the table to attempt to rapidly survey his surroundings. Zim’s grin grew as he stood up straight and quickly smoothed down his apron. Not that the human could see, but still. This sort of engagement with his nemesis deserved a certain level of decorum.

     “Hey! What is this??” Dib barked, the human’s heart rate quickened, and something fond for the foolish creature swelled deep in Zim’s chest. While it was undeniable that his (inferior) rival’s voice had deepened quite significantly in the long years of Zim’s occupation, it sincerely delighted him that it still went up several octaves in panic like it had since the Dib was a smeet. Especially if the reason for the boy’s panic was Zim. (As it should be, really.)

     “Hello, _Dib._ ” Zim purred, his dark, cruel tone curling like smoke in the deep magenta light of his lab, the usual greeting, established through years of violence and fury.

     “ _Zim._ ” The usual response. Dib sighed his exasperation as his head flopped back against the stainless steel with a dull thud. He wrinkled his nose, his tone annoyed. “Did you blindfold me?”

     “No Dib, I plucked your eyes out.” The little Irken hummed playfully as he ghosted one gloved finger down glistening white. It was a bit embarrassing to admit, but he was actually feeling giddy as he pulled his hand up to eye level to silently appreciate the slick liquid glisten of vibrant red on his fingertip. His gaze flicked back up to his human’s face, to the deeply unimpressed line of Dib’s distractingly pink lips. Zim felt as smug as the cat that had gotten the cream and didn’t bother trying to hide it. “ _Comfortable,_ Earth-boy?”

Zim actually laughed at the way Dib’s expression froze before all trace of irritation melted into concern as the human tested his restraints again.

     “What did you do?” Dib’s head rocked forward again in a vain attempt to see what was happening around him- or _to_ him. His eyebrows furrowed beneath his red satin blindfold as his lips drew back to bare his blunt teeth- a grimace caught somewhere between cold fear and burning anger- to scowl in the direction of Zim’s voice.

     “Blissfully numb then, foolish creature?” Not that Dib would be able to feel it, but he delicately braced his hands against his broad shoulders to lean in close enough that the human could feel his breath as his voice lowered to a whisper. “Be grateful to your future slave-master for being so merciful.”

     (The Dib’s odd lips were annoyingly distracting. Zim should have gagged him too.)

     “What are you doing?” And, ah, this was the Dib he liked best; All challenge and bravado. Not a lick of sense or self-preservation. Zim grinned broadly as he drew himself back upright to loom over the human, his fingertips lingering on warm Earthen skin.

     “What _you_ have vowed to do to Zim for years, Dib-stink, but failed to.” He sang playfully as he tapped one long claw against stark white and keenly watched the human’s face, eager to catch the very moment Dib realized what was happening.

Sure enough, it only took a second for the human to blanch, his mouth silently falling open as his expression shifted from confusion to horror. Sheer delight flushed through Zim’s veins, and he couldn’t help but arch away from his favourite plaything to cackle his victory to the ceiling. Honestly, that took longer than it probably should have, considering the human’s revoltingly keen sense of smell was (only slightly!) superior to the Irken’s, and the metallic tang of deep red human blood hung thick enough in the air to choke even Zim.

     “No wonder you’re so obsessed with Zim’s superior body, human filth,” He chirped with raw, sadistic glee as he reverently traced his fingertips over the twisted tangle of Dib’s pale intestines. “Your insides are disgusting.”

     “Zim, seriously,” Dib’s voice was low, urgent, the sweat beginning to bead on his skin shining in the low light of the lab. “If you mess around with anything in there I will literally die.” The tip of Zim’s long tongue flicked out to trace his own upper lip. The Dib sounded frightened and he kind of regretted blindfolding his bitter nemesis, now he couldn’t see the fear in those warm honey brown eyes. Eh, but then the fragile human might look down and just wind up going into shock and _actually_ die. Or something. Then what was Zim supposed to do to pass the time on this miserable rock? That would be no fun at all.

     “Will you beg?” Zim’s voice was equally low, intense, as his eyes slid half shut to watch his pet nervously wet his pink lips with his small soft tongue, an unknowing imitation of his Irken rival. Dib’s ribs rose and fell as he took a deep breath to try and calm himself, and Zim quietly wished he’d opened up the human’s chest properly. Wished he could gently cup that pounding heart in his hands and feel the burning heat of his human’s fierce will to survive soak through his skin and into his bones. Alas, inferior human bones took much longer to mend then muscle and connective tissue, and he didn’t want to leave his Dib-thing out of commission for too long. He laid his hand firmly over the cage his nemesis kept his heart trapped within. Zim would have to satisfy himself with just this.

     “I’m not begging you for anything, you space cockroach.” Dib clenched his teeth, his tone firm and bold, yet his heart raced beneath Zim’s small palm. There it was again, that surge of warm fondness beneath Zim’s ribs that made his skin and antenna tingle. He took only a moment of self-indulgence to try and relieve some of the strange pressure that was building between his thighs and pressed his palm firmly against his slit, leaving a stark red print on his apron. His eyes fluttered shut, and he silently bit his lower lip to savour the small sparks of sharp pleasure that danced up his spine at the delicious friction, unlike anything he’d experienced before landing on this miserable ball of dirt.

He wasn’t sure what had changed- the unassuming slit had always been there, unnamed and unnoticed, just like on every other Irken. He’d never once considered that it would feel anything really, let alone like _this_. He’d never thought about it at all, at least not until the Dib started getting so damned _tall_. When he’d first landed on this forsaken rock he had stood eye-to-eye with his annoying rival, now the Earth-boy had the gall to look down at him with passion and rage burning in those eerie pinpoint amber eyes in ways that made Zim’s knees feel strangely weak, and his body _ache_ without pain. Suddenly he found his own biology twisted into an enemy, caught his instincts whispering _‘submit, submit, submit’_ even though the infuriating human was NOT one of Zim’s Tallers, and he would find himself keenly aware of that little slit as he squirmed to press his thighs tightly together to-

     (Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he was trying to ease the strange sensation, or escalate it.)

It was around that time he’d found himself becoming more and more morbidly fascinated with the Dib’s body too, intrigued by all the strange ways it had changed since his arrival. Not only had he become much, much taller, but he’d also become leaner in some places, broader in others. Zim found himself entranced by the shape of Dib’s hands, the hollow of his throat, the curve of his jawline, the cocky slant of his disgustingly appealing lips. And the nagging thought that began to continually gnaw at the back of his mind, vehemently pushed back and stubbornly ignored until it was so late in the night it was early, when Zim was all alone, and his will finally crumbled; Did Dib have a small slit, unnamed and unnoticed, between his thighs too? Were the warm folds hidden within pink like his soft mouth? Or vivid red like his blood? Did his eyes also flutter shut, lost in sensation, when he shamefully touched himself under the cover of darkness? Zim would keep one hand clapped firmly over his own mouth, his eyes squeezed shut and breath held tightly, trying and failing to not think about Dibs hips grinding in frantic desperation against his as his other palm pressed down while his hips pressed up, his leggings wet from a want he didn’t understand and his hand frozen with the absurd fear that the pleasure would become too much.

     “You should try it sometime, Dib-worm,” Zim purred, his eyes cracking open to drink in the expanse of his human prize. “It would suit you.” The hand that had pressed between his thighs rose to lightly trace the curve of Dib’s bare hip. If nothing else, today's little game had been an excellent opportunity to satiate his curiosity about his pet’s body. He was still trying to decide if he was disappointed to discover the Dib was shaped _very_ differently than him. The human sported some sort of spongy soft protrusion and a gross wrinkled _bag_ where his slit was supposed to be. Perhaps now that he’d seen their bodies were incompatible the fantasies would finally stop and Zim could go back to blissfully forgetting his slit was even there. On the other hand, he’d been holding back on looking up any information on human anatomy to savour the thrill of the surprise, so he supposed he could check into it now that his rivals disgusting _everything_ was out in the open. For research purposes only, obviously. Either way, that was for later. For now, he lovingly stroked his palm down the length of Dib’s exposed ribs.

     “Fuck you.” Dib spat, and Zim grinned with delight. Even laying completely open and exposed, his rival remained defiant. A weaker human would bend, break, surrender, but not his. That’s why he couldn’t just kill the Earth creature, no matter what inconvenience or aggravation it caused him in the long run- the Dib made things interesting. There was a certain thrill that came with having a legitimate sworn nemesis. And he was sure his human playmate felt the same, especially after he’d walked away once only to come running back to Zim of his own volition. It was an intoxicating level of intimacy that no other could hope to replicate or replace. What other pathetic humans could possibly claim to know his Earth-boy, both outside and _in_ , as wholly as Zim? And he had no doubt it wouldn’t be long before Dib could make the same claim about him- the human would absolutely not allow this indignity to go un-avenged. Zim would certainly complain at the time (loudly and at length), but, in reality, he didn’t mind that much. It was fine as long as it was Dib doing it. That’s just how things were between the two of them. And perhaps, perhaps, when his rival finally had him tied down, blindfolded, and more open and exposed then he’d ever been before in his long life, Dib would find himself trying to decide if he was disappointed to discover Zim was shaped differently than him too.

     “If you insist.” Zim sighed with mock regret as he leaned down and softly pressed his lips above his bitter nemesis’ heart. A mark Dib would carry beneath his skin for the rest of his days; a soft secret Zim would jealously guard for the rest of his. He pulled away and roughly wiped his mouth with the back of his glove as he studied what he could see of his human’s face beneath the blindfold. It suddenly occurred to him that he could kiss Dib, could see if his mouth tasted of the same harsh metallic tang as his blood, but dismissed the idea as quickly as it had sprung to mind. It wasn’t worth it if he didn’t have to fight for it. Instead, he swept over to the preparation table and carefully carried the large bowl of gelatin he’d made earlier and quietly deposited it by Dib’s side for phase two of his plan.

Dib’s entire body jerked as Zim loudly plunged both hands into the gelatin, the human’s eyebrows shooting up and mouth dropping open in horror. “Your organs are a mess, Dib-thing, honestly what is even holding you together?” He chirped happily as he scooped a sizable glob of slime out of the bowl. “I don’t even know what this thing _is_.” He turned and dropped it into the garbage with a wet thunk as Dib _screamed_.


	2. Walked In On

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It’s Irken!Dib AU time, baeby

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Dib ducked his head lower into the scarf wrapped tightly over his mouth as his team pressed against the harsh winds towards the plain squat dome, rising like a putrid blister from the crumbled ruins around it. Even with the scarf, he still had sand and ash in his mouth, and he took a moment to be profoundly grateful for his goggles that were usually a source of teasing from his fellow Irkens. Dark delight coiled deep in his chest as he cast a glance back at his small team of fellow researchers to find them squinting, eyes bleary and watering, as they stumbled through the storm. Yeah, who looked like a nerd _now_ , Commander Pen?

He grinned beneath his scarf and turned back to the dome with a skip in his step. Or as much of a skip as he could manage through the deep shifting red sand at least. Honestly, how did Smallers even make it from the landing field to the Outpost? Then again, he supposed the majority of his fellow Irkens didn’t particularly _care_  how Smallers managed to do _anything_ , as long as they got it done. He firmly shoved that bitter thought to the back of his mind, he didn’t want anything to put a damper on tonight. Nervous excitement fluttered beneath his ribs, pulling him towards the Outpost. There was a gnawing fear there too, as there always was after so much time, and distance, and danger.

The wind screamed in the ante-chamber as the small research team stumbled through the first door. The silence that followed was almost deafening as the sand and ash fluttered to the ground, cut off from the storm that had whipped it up in its fury. Only once he grew accustomed to the lack of howling wind did he become aware of the muffled music and voices beyond the second airlock door. Commander Pen roughly shouldered past him with a warning look to take his place at the front of the small team. Dib didn’t pay him any mind. Instead, his attention turned to nervously preen himself, quickly taking a moment to try and straighten his cloak and brush as much grit off his uniform as he could before the secondary door could lift.

The secondary door opened to a cacophony of colours and smells and _noise_  that was almost as disorienting as the roar of the storm outside, and he pressed his one good antenna flat against his skull to try and muffle the sensations. Long strips of silks dyed in vibrant reds and pinks hung from the arching dome ceiling in low, rippling loops, the proud insignia of the Empire stamped in stark black down the lengths of sheer fabric, illuminated from behind by dim lights embedded in the ceiling. The Outpost was swarming with Irkens of all sizes and shapes- Dib’s team’s stay happened to overlap with one of the Empire’s many platoons of soldiers. Music blared over crackling speakers as Irkens laughed and cavorted in their harsh native tongue over the dimly lit tables as the only non-Irkens, the unfortunate bartender and a handful of harried looking servers, nervously flitted through the chaos. Dib eagerly scanned the milling crowd, lost in his search until he was impatiently nudged in the small of his back by his commanding officer. Right. Debriefing.

He allowed himself to be lead through the throng to one of the small rooms tucked away in a tangled honeycomb in the back of the Outpost to send a transmission to the head scientist back on the Massive. The debriefing was as painfully dull as always, with their next assignment sounding like it was going to be the same. Dib tried to not acknowledge the surreptitious glances from his teammates as he awkwardly danced around declining yet another thinly veiled request to return to Irk. Where his ‘talents’ (i.e. his _height_ ) could be more effectively ‘utilized’ (i.e. kept safely out of harm's way in case something happened to the current Almighty Tallests, and their next in line, and Dib was required to step up). While he knew he wasn’t particularly well-liked by his teammates, they certainly did like how having him on the team meant they were handed the cushiest projects. Honestly, this Outpost was the closest they’d come to ‘roughing it’ in quite some time.

Dib _hated_  it- if he could have his way he’d be out pushing past the edges of Irken space into the unknown to learn everything he could about the uncharted wilds that lay beyond. However, his position left him on a very short leash with not nearly as much influence as he’d like to show for it.

They were finally released in time for the platoons debriefing to begin. The lights throughout most of the Outpost flicked off except for the burning glow above the center bar where an Irken in dusty Elite garb had pulled herself up to stand on the counter to address the soldiers while the bartender cowered below. Dib made his way as inconspicuously as he could towards the back wall at the very edge of the area designated for Tallers. Sure enough, it didn’t take long until a familiar voice was drawing his attention away from the loud Irken commander.

      “Hello, _Dib_.” Dib didn’t bother masking his grin as his gaze fell to the tiny Irken soldier perched primly on the chair at his side- the one at the very edge of the area designated for Smallers. Zim still looked whole and unharmed after the last mission, and relief swelled like a bubble deep in Dib’s chest to the point it took him a moment to be able to reply. All he wanted was to drink in that small round face and wide bright eyes dancing in the low light. Burn it into his memory until he could see it again each time he closed his eyes.

      “ _Zim._ ” Dib purred, and Zim’s face split into a wide grin in return, his little legs kicking with idle delight under his chair where his feet didn’t quite touch the floor. Dib twisted in his seat to rest his elbow on the back of his chair while he appraised his smeethood companion and co-conspirator. He squinted one eye playfully as he nodded sharply at the Irken Elite still droning on up on top of the bar. “Shouldn’t you be paying attention? You know, find out where you’re being deployed next?”

      “Nah. Everyone will be talking about it once we board again anyway.” Zim scoffed with a petulant wave of his hand, like his commander’s words were beneath his notice. “Besides, I’m not going to the next mission, Zim’s immeasurable talents are wasted on the front lines. I’m shipping off to Devastis.”

      “You’re… going to try to get reclassified?” Dib’s antenna perked in surprise. On the one hand, it would be a weight off Dib’s mind if Zim was reclassified from a simple footsoldier, especially one at his size class which was typically used as fodder more than anything. However, knowing Zim- more accurately, knowing Zim’s _reputation_ \- he was more likely than not to wind up getting shuffled into an even _more_  dangerous position.

Zim scooted to the edge of his seat and leaned in towards the closest thing he had to a friend, his voice dropping to a whisper. “There’s a rumour going around that the Almighty Tallests are looking to finally implement the Invader initiative, and they’ll only accept Elites for specialized training.”

     “You’re trying to become an _Elite?_ ” Dib’s eyes widened, his chest tightening as the exact wrong words came tumbling out in a rushed whisper. “Do you think they’ll let you?”

Zim's antenna pressed flat to his scalp, his lips pressing into a thin line as his eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking away to glare down at the small gap between their two chairs. “All these stupid rules and stupid lines- I _hate_  it.” Zim hissed as his narrow shoulders bunched defensively and Dib desperately wished he could pluck his careless words out of the air and swallow them back down. He wished he could reach over and gently squeeze the smaller Irken’s thin wrist, but Zim wasn’t the only one bound by stupid rules and stupid lines, and the small gap between them might as well have been a yawning canyon. “But they don’t matter as much to an Elite.” Zim’s eyes flicked back up to meet Dib’s as his lip curled defiantly. “So they had _better_  let Zim take the exam.”

      “They will.” Something warm and soft and dangerous fluttered deep in Dib’s chest, and he actually found he didn’t doubt that they would. If anyone could screech his way into, or out of, pretty much anything it was Zim. That’s how it had always been ever since they were smeets together in the Education Plug. His gaze flicked away to disinterestedly watch the Elite commander pace across the bar as something strangely melancholy twisted in his guts. “You’re going to be an Invader, huh?” It was one of the most prestigious positions an Irken soldier could ever aspire to. And one of the most dangerous, and isolated, with little support from the rest of their Empire and no contact outside of reporting directly to the Almighty Tallests. For as long as it took. (The time they spent apart now was already too much, Dib didn’t want to think about-) “Maybe I should go with you to Devastis and see about getting reclassified too. We could do the Invader training together, just like when we were cadets, you know?” Zim was already shaking his head before Dib had even finished.

      “No, you have to stay a Researcher.” Zim stated bluntly as Dib’s antenna pressed flat in a mixture of annoyance and hurt. The last thing he needed was Zim starting to get on his case about what he could and could not do too. Zim quickly looked away before Dib could respond, but the taller Irken hadn’t missed the lavender flush blossoming high on his smaller companions cheeks, even in the low lighting of the Outpost. “The Dib has to do his science-y nonsense on Zim’s planet after the Great Assigning.”

Dib’s initial defensiveness melted away into a soft fondness as he sighed affectionately.

      “I don’t think they send research teams to planets marked for Invasion.”

      “Not the team. Just you.” Zim huffed as he nervously crossed his ankles beneath his chair and glared pointedly down at his lap instead of meeting Dib’s eyes. “And they will. This time.”

The Elite commander finished her speech and gracefully hopped down from the bar as what remained of the lights flicked off, plunging the Outpost into total darkness aside from the flickering screen above the bar. A special treat for the Empire’s loyal soldiers- a brief pre-recorded message from their beloved Tallests.

Dib was reminded of the Education Plug, the earliest years of his life spent in pitch darkness deep below Irk’s surface, devoid of any sensation beyond the weight of the holo-visor running military simulation after simulation, and Zim’s tiny hand squeezing his through the scary parts. Back before either of them knew such a small, simple gesture was wrong.

All eyes in the Outpost were locked on the screen to drink in every word from their Almighty Tallests, the two beings every Irken had been programmed to love above all others, even themselves, beyond any condition or question from the moment of hatching, each soldier and scientist enthralled in breathless silence. While tucked away in the very back of the darkest edge of the small Outpost two Irkens of different rank and different class silently held hands across a gap both mundanely small and terrifyingly enormous, an unwavering loyalty that was treason at best, and outright Defective at worst, glowing warmly deep beneath their ribs.

It wasn’t long after the lights had flicked back on that Dib found himself being impatiently nudged in the small of his back for a second time that day. This time, however, instead of worried annoyance the gesture filled him with a nervous excitement buzzing beneath his skin as Zim shot him a half-lidded look as he brushed past, his fingertips lingering just a moment too long and something dark and playful in his gaze. Dib allowed himself to be lead through the milling crowds back to the jumbled honeycomb of rooms once more.

It didn’t matter which room they wound up in, all that mattered was that it was _empty_ , away from prying eyes and gossiping lips.

As soon as the door clicked closed behind him, Dib found himself pressed against it by a lithe little body, Zim’s arms wrapped tight around his torso and head pressed into Dib’s chest. Dib felt like he could finally release a breath he’d been holding for far too long as he melted into the familiar embrace. While this level of touching wasn’t _strictly_  forbidden it was considered unnecessary and strongly discouraged, even among smeets. So while they weren’t technically doing anything wrong, it would certainly garner a _lot_  of negative attention to greet each other in such an intimate and undignified manner in public.

They had learned from a painfully young age to hide.

Zim pulled away, his hands coming to rest on the swell of Dib’s hips as he evenly met Dib’s gaze with a smug look, his features soft in the dim orange light of the small, sparsely furnished room. Just a dented metal safe box pressed against one wall, presumably for a traveller to lock any valuables they might be carrying, a cracked mirror above it, and a narrow, unmade mattress tucked up against the opposite wall.

     “You may tell Zim how much you missed him now.” The smaller Irken purred. If they had more than a few short hours before they would be pulled apart to go their separate ways again, Dib absolutely would have jumped at the opportunity to tease him.

   “You are such a brat, you know that right?” Dib huffed. Zim’s eyes narrowed and his antenna pressed flat, his lips dropping into a pout as Dib gently tilted the small solider’s chin back with his hand to study Zim’s face. “I did miss you, though. Every hour of every day.” His voice lowered, and Zim’s expression softened, instantly mollified by the whispered confession as Dib smoothed the pad of his thumb over Zim’s bottom lip. “I-” The words stopped in his throat as though a physical barrier blocked them. Dib’s eyes flicked away as he tried to swallow the jagged lump back down. It was… too much, too enormous, too frightening to admit to yet, even to himself. His gaze fell back to Zim, as it always did, as he suspected it always _would_ , to the inviting pink part of his soft lips, to the way they obediently opened when Dib lightly pressed his thumb against the smaller Irken’s bottom lip. If hugging was pushing the limits of what was acceptable behaviour, this was entering dangerous territory.

What had begun as an innocent act of comfort in the Educational Plug- two scared boys reaching out for something solid and safe in the darkness- continued throughout their cadet training, long past when the rest of their peers had outgrown such childish displays. And while Dib understood that it was considered strange to take comfort in the familiar warmth of Zim’s hand entwined with his, he didn’t understand _why._ Not until much, much later when they were stationed together on planet Vort, when chaste childish embraces shifted to longing gazes and lingering touches of a more… _exploratory_  nature. When tracing his fingers along the curve of Zim's little spine beneath the bulky, loose-fitting military research uniform left Dib’s mouth dry and chest tight in ways he didn’t understand. When he would get reprimanded for making stupid, amateur mistakes by his Vortian supervisors because Dib couldn’t focus on what he was supposed to be doing. He was too wrapped up in replaying how he’d gently cupped Zim’s neck the previous night, how the smaller Irken’s pulse raced against his palm as Dib slipped his other hand beneath the hem of Zim’s uniform.

Even after they were inevitably separated after the tragic Blob Incident- Dib’s height pushing him into higher ranks then a Smaller like Zim could follow, while the Control Brains decided to remove Zim from the Researcher class altogether- they continued this strange dance of escalation and regret. Again and again, they would fall into each other, hopelessly lost in the sinful sensations of trembling fingers and slick tongues far, far beyond what either of them could hope to justify as anything _but_  Defective behaviour if either was ever brought before the Control Brains. Even with the danger, each encounter was both frightening and freeing in its intensity. Despite vowing over and over again that he would control himself the next time Dib always found himself in the exact same position; Drawn to the small Irken by a force as undeniable as gravity, intoxicated by Zim’s sweet mouth and soft skin, until Zim was raking his claws down Dib’s back, his pretty face flushed and pinched as though in pain, his trembling thighs spread wide around Dib’s hips, breathlessly begging beneath him _”don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-”_

      “I really want to kiss you.” Dib breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. Still, Zim’s eyelids fluttered, his grip on Dib’s hips tightening as he obediently tilted his head to meet Dib’s lips with his own. Dib hummed his amusement into Zim’s eager mouth as the smaller Irken wrapped his arms around Dib’s shoulders. “I take it you missed me too, then?” He whispered teasingly against Zim’s lips.

      “Catch me or you’re dead.” Zim drew back to give Dib a look to show him how serious he was, then hopped up. Dib caught him easily as he stood back up straight, Zim’s slim legs wrapping around his waist and arms still tight across his shoulders. “There, that’s easier.” He chirped and leaned in to kiss Dib again.

      “Hmm.” Dib hummed against Zim’s soft lips and broke away to nuzzle their foreheads together, golden amber eyes cracking open to meet vibrant red. “Don’t lie, Zim. You just want to enjoy the view from up here.” He teased warmly. Zim’s eyes flicked down Dib’s body before meeting his gaze again, one small fingertip lightly tracing the outline of Dib’s lip.

      “Maybe I do.” He purred and flicked the tip of his wicked little tongue against the seal of Dib’s lips, and how could Dib possibly hope to deny whatever this was between them?

      “One day I’m going to take you far away from all of this,” Dib whispered as he searched deep in Zim’s eyes, all trace of teasing gone. “We’ll go somewhere I can kiss you wherever we want, and no one would say anything.”

      “One day, when you’re Tallest, you can do whatever you want, and no one _could_  say anything.” Zim punctuated the end of his statement with a firm peck against his mouth as a shiver of both excitement and fear ran up Dib’s spine.

     “I kind of doubt we’ll be burning through three more Tallests that quickly, Zim.” Dib scoffed softly against the smaller Irken’s lips. Zim hummed a non-committal noise and kissed him again. “ _Zim._ ” Dib pulled back to give him a hard look before trailing a couple quick pecks down his neck to end with a hard bite where his neck met his shoulder, eliciting a surprised gasp from the small soldier. “Talk like that gets you executed, you know.” Dib murmured against Zim’s soft skin before tracing his long tongue over the edge of the mark.

      “I’m pretty sure all of this would too, Dib-thing.” Zim purred sweetly as he tilted his head away to give his Taller better access to his neck. It was Dib’s turn to hum a non-committal noise as he pressed a deep, sucking kiss against that sweet, soft skin. Zim ghosted gloved claw tips up the back of Dib’s neck to trace over his scalp and lightly pinch the base of his antenna.

It wasn’t long until they were panting against each other and Zim was tugging his antenna with more force then he really needed to. “ _Bed._ ” He hissed once he had Dib’s attention, plush little lips kiss-swollen and red eyes dark with raw desire. “ _Now._ ”

Dib certainly didn’t need to be told twice.

The mattress squeaked beneath them, because of course it would, but Dib doubted they could be heard over the music and revelry outside. Zim straddled his waist, the smaller Irken's dusty leggings rolled down around his thighs, the peek of tantalizing green skin between his wrinkled waistband and the hem of his uniform sent spears of heat down Dib's body, his own leggings already wet with want. The need to _possess,_ to mark every inch of Zim’s perfect little body as _Dib’s_ again and again until Zim screamed himself raw sang through Dib’s veins. Zim mewled sweetly against his mouth as Dib slipped a long finger past the warm folds between the smaller Irken’s thighs to find him already open and dripping wet. Dib teased him with a maddeningly slow beckoning motion until Zim hissed his frustration and ground his hips back against Dib’s hand.

     “Dib-stink, so help me I’m going to rip off your other antenna if you don’t-” Zim growled, his lips pulled back in a snarl and face flushed beautifully. He stopped mid-threat, his dark eyes fluttering shut with a delicious low keen as Dib slipped a second finger into his perfect little body.

And then the door swung open and the squat little bartender waltzed into the small room.

The bartender recoiled and shrieked.

Dib ripped his hands away from Zim, bolted upright, and shrieked.

Zim grabbed his blaster from its holster, hurled it at the bartender, and also shrieked.

     “ _Why would you throw your weapon at the enemy??_ ” Dib’s attention snapped back to Zim, his voice shrill with panic and his hands left hovering awkwardly.

     “ _Don’t tell me how to be a SOLDIER, Dib!_ ” Zim barked back, his face shifting about 6 different shades of green-to-blue-to-purple as he ripped his leggings back up over his thighs.

      “What are you-?!” The bartender began to stammer but was promptly shouted down by two flustered Irkens.

      “ _GET OUT!_ ”

      “But this is my room...” The bartender squeaked, his eyes filling with tears.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the lovely God Tier ZaDr Discord for throwing this event together! Fair warning, I am absolutely not going to get all these prompts done whoops whoops. If I can hammer out, like, three I will be pretty pleased with myself. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and have a lovely day :3


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